


Perks of Perfectionism

by Ephermeralk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Somnophilia, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 16:53:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephermeralk/pseuds/Ephermeralk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam’s a bit of a perfectionist. There’s no reason that shouldn’t apply to sucking off his brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perks of Perfectionism

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Uhm. I wrote this for a kink-meme prompt asking for hurt Jerk!Dean grumping at Sam for a blowjob, then waking up to Sam’s mouth around his cock. There are also a lot of words involved that are not porn. *shrugs* Hope you like, OP. Also, not mine. Except the errors. Those belong to me.

Sam stumbles, cleats catching on the worn holes of the concrete steps leading up to the house Dad rented out for the month. The place hasn’t had a paint job in at least a decade, and spiders inhabit every window sill. Still, Sam likes it better than a motel; a few rats and a bed with broken springs beat out the smell of bleach and stained carpets any day. He pulls open the torn screen door and steps awkwardly over the line of salt next to the door. It’s one of the first rules of living with John Winchester: only stay in places with doors that open to the outside. 

Dad’s voice echoes in his head from when he left them both two weeks ago saying, “I gotta go see Elkins about a case. Sammy, don’t give your brother a hard time, remember the salt lines, and stay out of trouble.” 

Dad had then turned his serious voice towards his brother with a rough, “Dean, the place is paid up through October. I’ve left some money in the hall closet with the shotgun. Now, just ‘cause your hurt doesn’t mean you can’t watch out for Sammy. I should be back in a few weeks, and if I’m not call Pastor Jim.”

It was his usual speech until he turned around at the door, adding “And Dean, if you take that cast off before the two months are up, we’re resetting that break without the anesthesia this time.”

Sam’s backpack’s halfway to being dropped unceremoniously on the floor when he hears the faint sounds of Dean snoring over the voices seeping out of the television. Sam likes when Dean’s asleep. Passed out, Dean’s not Dad’s soldier, or Sam’s sometimes reluctant caregiver, or the hot new guy at school. He’s just Dean; a mix of angelic beauty and vulnerability. Right now though, Dean looks unusually uncomfortable.

Dean’s had a cast on his leg for the past month courtesy of a poltergeist that was less than pleased at the idea of being ganked by Sam’s big brother and Dad. He’s still got another four weeks to go of plaster covering his leg and Sam’s not sure that either of them will make it. Dean doesn’t take well to being cooped up inside, no car—Her name’s Baby—to work on or girls to pick up. Sam’s tried to convince Dean to sit on the steps outside or lean against the impala and watch the stars on clear evenings but Dean always refuses.

Sam feels his dick stirring at the sight of Dean, bad leg resting against the couch, the other hanging over the side. Dean’s sporting a black ACDC tee-shirt and his favorite pair of worn olive green briefs. Even from the entry-way Sam can make out the shape of his brother’s dick, soft but bulging slightly towards the right.

Then he can’t help it, he has to get a hand on his own dick otherwise he might combust with need. He’s halfway to the inside of his pants when his backpack finally reaches the floor with a resounding thud. Dean awakens like the apocalypse just knocked on their front door and Sam retracts his hand immediately.

“Jesus, Sammy, give a man a warning before charging in will ya?” he grumbles, clearly unhappy to be awake.

“Sorry, Dean, I didn’t mean to be so loud,” Sam swallows, turning slightly to hide his now unzipped pants.

“Need anything, since I’m up, Dean?”

Dean scowls at the implication that he can’t move around by himself.

“Yeah, Sam. I need a fucking shower without this cast on, and my dick sucked. Think you could manage that?” He throws out angrily. 

Sam’s used to Dean’s pushing comments since he can’t move without crutches. He knows it’s just displaced, like when he punches Dean after fight with Dad. Dean always knows it wasn’t meant for him, not really.

Dean’s feeling exceptional tonight though, because he adds in afterwards “I’d only ask for one out of two, but I know you like to get one-hundred percent on everything, little bro. You can’t help but shove all those perfect report cards in my face.”

Sam sighs; Dean can be just like Dad when he wants. He grabs the bottle of oxycotin from the counter and a new bottle of water.  
“Sorry about waking you up Dean,” he says sincerely, and then runs his hand through Dean’s short hair. Dean leans into it, and Sam looks down at him in surprise, but his brother’s got his eyes closed. His dark eyelashes stand out against his pale skin. He runs his thumb down the side of Dean’s slightly stubbled face, and refrains from tracing the creases in his lips. 

“I’ve got some homework to do, Dean. Gotta keep those one-hundred’s, otherwise who’s gonna tease me about ‘em” Sam says softly. “I’ll be just down the hall. Holler if you need anything, Dean.” 

Sam already knows that Dean won’t. He’s too proud.

Sam walks over to pick up his backpack and is halfway down the hall when he hears Dean grumble “I need a beer and fucking blow job, Sammy. How many goddamn times do I have to ask?”

 

Sam takes a break from studying world geography around five. He figures he has a fifty-fifty chance that they skip town before the end of the term comes around and he has to know all the countries on the African continent. 

Sam wanders out to the kitchen and throws some water in a pot to make pasta. Dean can’t stand for long enough to cook these days. It feels odd to be the one taking care of Dean, making him dinner and cleaning up the dishes. Dean argues that he ruins toast, and his idea of cleaning involves cockroaches doing the work.

Sam lets his mind wander towards more pleasant thoughts of Dean. Usually he thinks about Dean sucking him down in the backseat of the Impala, but tonight he imagines what it would be like to give Dean head. To show his brother he’s better than all the different girls in random diners. That he can truly take care of Dean.

He finds himself in front of Dean who’s lying passed out on the couch, arms crossed over his chest, legs still splayed. Sam’s filled with a sudden desire to touch Dean like he’s thought about before, emboldened by Dean’s placid state.

He starts by lightly touching the white skin at the bottom of Dean’s briefs, watching for any signs of a return to consciousness. He moves up then, edging towards the skin that forms the v-shape of his brother’s groin. The skin feels soft, and Sam’s surprised to realize that Dean must trim his pubic hair. 

He pulls down Dean’s shorts slowly, only the front half, until just Dean’s cock and balls are exposed to the air. Sam thinks he can see them retract slightly into Dean’s body at the touch of cold air. 

“Don’t worry,” he says quietly to Dean’s dick, “I”ll make you feel better in just a second.”

Sam looks up to make sure that Dean’s still sleeping, and weighs his options. Dean’s cock is soft though, so he goes for taking in the whole organ at once. It’s a little more awkward than he originally imagined, but he puts his tongue flat against the underside of Dean’s dick, and gently maneuvers the rest into his mouth.

He starts a gentle sucking rhythm combined with moving his tongue back and forth over the nerves right underneath the head of Dean’s penis. Sam knows Dean’ll be just as sensitive as him there. He feels Dean getting thicker, longer, and surprisingly warmer within his mouth, and suddenly he feels as confident as when he knows how to do all the problems on a math test. He made Dean hard with his mouth. It’s not some girl, it’s Sam, Dean’s little brother making him hard and horny.

Dean was right; Sam does like to master his subjects.

Sam licks at Dean’s slit, tasting his brother’s pre-come on his tongue for the first time. He involuntarily moans around Dean’s cock at the taste, and then Dean is pushing forward, shoving his cock down Sam’s throat.

Sam looks up as his eyes start to water, and he’s met with Dean’s confused stare for a moment before he lifts the side of his mouth into a smirk, winks, and grabs onto Sam’s head, forcing him further down onto Dean’s cock.

Sam’s working furiously with his tongue, trying to lick the veins and around the head of Dean’s cock on the upstroke, until he gives up and lets Dean fuck his mouth furiously. He feels Dean’s balls, warm and swollen, start to rub up against his chin, and then he focuses all of his energy on Dean. 

“Sam, fuck, I’m gonna come…Can I?”

Sam knows what Dean’s asking, but can’t reply with his mouth currently occupied with Dean’s cock. He answers with an “mmhmmm” around Dean’s shaft and with a few more brutal thrusts in, Dean’s coming into his mouth and down his throat. 

Come isn’t particularly pleasant tasting, Sam thinks, but he swallows it anyways. He’s been all in since he started this, back when Dean was unconscious and didn’t have a say. It’s the least he can do.

He moves Dean’s green briefs back up to cover his dick, after it’s gone down a little with a stern “Gentle, Sam, you’re handling Winchester family jewels there.”

Sam doesn’t know how to do this. He didn’t think about having to talk to his brother after sucking his dick. Luckily, Dean’s got it covered.

“You wining and dining me too, little bro, or were you just planning on taking what you wanted?” his brother says in a relaxed tone. Sam did just give him awesome head after all.

“I got water boiling for pasta right now, Dean. And you know the rules: no booze until you’re off the drugs.”

Dean sighs, “How did I get stuck with a boy scout for a little brother?”

Sam throws the pasta in, grabs a beer, then moves back to curl his oversized, lanky body in between Dean’s legs.   
“Just one, Dean. And you’re sharing it with me.”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

And just like that its back to normal, until dinner’s done, and Sam’s the one smirking this time with his hand on Dean’s cock for the second time in a day.


End file.
